


bless you

by mwestbelle



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Chastity Device, Ficlet, M/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Prompt Fill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-14
Updated: 2016-11-14
Packaged: 2018-08-30 22:43:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8552134
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mwestbelle/pseuds/mwestbelle
Summary: “Blowing your nose?” Bucky stares at him. It somehow looks even more incredulous than it used to, coming from under messy strands of dark hair. “Did you really just tell me that you’re so fuckin’ detached from your own goddamn body that an orgasm is like blowing your goddamn nose?”





	

**Author's Note:**

> Transferring some of my tumblr prompt fills over to Ao3!

Steve hasn’t come in three days, and he feels like he’s losing his mind.

The history books say he’s got a metabolism four times that of the average man. They usually leave out that his other needs got super-charged too in that machine, that he went in barely able to hold an erection and left with a libido that just won’t quit. He’s learned how to get himself off in the most efficient way possible; it’s not about pleasure, it’s about relief. Bodily maintenance. It’s not so different from blowing his nose.

The trouble comes when he tries to explain this to Bucky.

“Blowing your nose?” Bucky stares at him. It somehow looks even more incredulous than it used to, coming from under messy strands of dark hair. “Did you really just tell me that you’re so fuckin’ detached from your own goddamn body that an orgasm is like blowing your goddamn nose?”

Steve’s never thought of it that way, and he makes a face. “That’s not what I meant, Buck.”

“No, I know what you meant.” Bucky looks grim now. He does grim really well. “And I know how to fix it.”

Steve doesn’t ask where Bucky got the…device. It shows up on the bathroom counter the next night, and honestly isn’t as scary as Steve thought it would be. It’s black plastic, smooth and unassuming. It really does look like something that could fairly be called a medical device, and the instrument of torture he’d imagined. The ring goes on first, snug around his balls, and then the rest slides into place, completely encasing him in that nicely modern black plastic. It’s unusual, but not uncomfortable. The plastic warms to his skin, and he carefully turns the lock, withdrawing the key.

He puts his boxers back on before he goes back out into the bedroom, though the loose cotton doesn’t do much to disguise the hard bulge of plastic at his groin. Bucky is sitting in bed, tapping at his tablet, and he looks up with a smile when Steve holds the key out to him.

“Don’t lose that,” Steve says, a weak attempt at a joke and an honest plea all in one.

“Don’t worry.” Bucky just keeps smiling up at him. “I’ll keep it safe, ‘til it’s time.”

Three days later, and Bucky still doesn’t think it’s _time_.

Steve has never wanted to come so badly in his entire life. It was surprisingly easy to adjust to wearing the cage; it’s breathable, and actually can be fairly easily disguised with the cup in his costume. But every twitch, every twinge of his cock is thwarted by that damned black plastic, keeping him completely soft even as lust and longing builds in his gut.

The presence of the cage may fade into the background, but he’s painfully aware of the rest of his body in a way he never has been before. The fine hairs on his arms and the back of his neck stand up when Sam brushes up against him, pushing past. His stomach flips over when Natasha winks at him across the table during a briefing when no one else is paying attention. His damn cheeks heat up when Tony Stark slaps his ass, making some comment about football and jock culture.

“I’m gonna die, Buck.” Steve struggles free of his clothes. He’s turned on all the way down to his toes, and his dick is stubbornly soft within it’s cage. “I’m gonna _explode_.”

“That so?” Bucky quirks a single eyebrow at him. “Can’t you just sniffle it back in?”

“Argh,” Steve says. More shouts, and he flops onto the bed, crawling up between Bucky’s thighs to hover over him, pressing his plastic-encased crotch against Bucky’s warm, yielding flesh. “Bucky, please let me come.”

“You sure you want it?” Bucky licks his lips, staring up at Steve. “Absolutely sure? You think you can appreciate it now?”

“ _Yes_.” Steve remembers jacking himself so hard in a USO dressing room that his dick ended up red and raw, and he couldn’t _stop_ , just had to keep spitting in his hands and trying not to cry until one of the girls was nice enough to slip him some of the vaseline that they smeared on their teeth. This is worse. 

“Alright.” Bucky grins. He slips out from under Steve, digging around in the bedside table before looking over at him with a frown. “Uh oh…did you move the key?”

Steve’s stomach bottoms out, and he thinks he might be sick. After a second, Bucky beams and holds the key aloft.

“There’s somethin’ wrong with you, you know that,” Steve says, rolling over onto his back so Bucky has easy access to the cage. “I always told your ma, there’s something off about that Bucky Barnes.”

“You never did no such thing.” Bucky fits the key into the lock, and with a gentle twist and tug, Steve is free.

His dick aches as it starts to fill for the first time in days, tender and so sensitive that Steve gasps.

Bucky rubs his thigh as Steve hardens, the warmth of his touch a reassuring presence. “You’re okay, baby, it’s alright. Just go with it.”

Steve nods, squeezing his eyes shut as he breathes through it, cock finally reaching full hardness. He’s almost afraid to touch himself, to know how intense it will be.

Luckily, Bucky takes care of that for him too.

Steve lets out a strangled moan when Bucky’s hand closes sure and steady around his cock. It’s dry, but Bucky barely needs to stroke. Just a few squeezes, the solid weight of his hand around him, and Steve is coming like there’s no tomorrow, splattering his belly, Bucky’s arm, the sheets…just everywhere. He tries to catch his breath, wheezing slightly at the intensity of it.

“That’s gotta be, what?” Bucky says, inspecting his come-stained fingers. “At least as good as a sneeze?”


End file.
